Never Alone
by purple warrior 1977
Summary: When the only grandmother Bubba has ever known, passes away, he is named in her will. She plays a little matchmaker from the grave. Sorry I've been away. I've been dealing with some health issues.
1. Chapter 1

Never Alone

A In the Heat of the Night Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: I own no names or places of ITHOTN. Only the story is mine.

Chapter one

Homecoming

It was a rainy day as Captain Bubba Skinner walked to Memorial Hospital. Most visits to the hospital were a bit on the depressing side, as it meant either identifying a victim, or informing a family that a family member had either been injured or killed.

Sometimes he wondered if he'd made the right decision in becoming a cop.

He walked to room number 31. Knocking as he opened the door, He said, "Miss Dalton?"

A weak voice answered, "Bubba Skinner. You didn't have to visit an old woman."

"How are you feeling today, Miss Dalton?"

"Better. I got a phone call from Amelia. She's trying to get home."

"Where is she now?"

"India. Her photos will be featured in the Sparta Herald."

"Did you tell her of your illness?"

", Bubba, I haven't. she has enough to worry about, what with being overseas and all. Will you tell her?"

"Miss Dalton…"

"Bubba, I've known you since you were ten. You and Amelia have been close since childhood. I always hoped I would call you grandson. But calling you friend and handyman during your high school years has been an honor. You've never stopped making sure that the house had all the necessary repairs. You've visited me daily, even when the cancer landed me in the hospital. Now I entrust Amelia to you. I feel like I don't have much time. Please promise me you'll take care of her."

Bubba knew what she was implying. He rubbed his chin. "Yes Ma'am, Miss Dalton. I promise."

"Thank you, Bubba."

"Yes Ma'am. I hate to be rude, but my shift is about to start in twenty minutes."

"Stay safe, Bubba."

"Thank you, Miss Dalton."

Before leaving the hospital, Bubba followed a gut feeling. He gave his personal and work number with the nurse in case anything should happen with the only grandmotherly figure he knew.

That night, Bubba got the call that he was dreading. Two hours after his visit with her, Caroline Dalton died.

The next morning, after a restless night, his phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Bubba!"

"Amy?"

"Yes, it is."

"Where are you?"

"Coming into Sparta. Will you be visiting Memaw with me?"

"Amy, before you go home, can you meet me at the Magnolia Café?"

"What's wrong?"

"It's better if I tell you in person."

Twenty minutes later, Bubba met Amy, or as she was known to the world, Amelia.

"Hey Bubba Skinner. You sound tired."

"Amy, I tried to call you last night, but the number was out..."

"Bubba, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

"Honey, your grandmother died last night."

"What? Bubba if this is a joke, it isn't funny."

"Amy, I wish it were a joke."

"How?"

"She'd been hospitalized for the last month and a half due to female cancer."

"Why didn't she tell me?"

"She felt that you had enough to worry about. She asked me to tell you."

"You never stopped looking in on her. Even after I went to college. I want to see her."

"Amy, I think you need rest."

"No. I want to see her. I have to see her."

Bubba sighed. He knew she was right. "Very well, Amy. I'll take you to see her."

"Thank you."

The ride to Memorial Hospital was quiet. Amelia was thinking back to her childhood here in Sparta, Mississippi. It had been a happy childhood. She had been raised by her Grandmother, Caroline Dalton, since she was three years. Her parents had been killed in a tragic auto accident.

Amelia really didn't remember them. Everything she recollected involved her Memaw.

She was ten when the Skinner family moved in next door. She knew the Skinner boy was a year older. She found out that he was named after his father, Virgil Lawrence, or V L, for short. However, everyone in his family just called him Bubba. It was a name that stuck with him thru out his life.

She and Bubba became fast friends. They even dated in high school. But after graduation, they went their separate ways. Bubba went to college at the University of Alabama, on a full ride scholarship to play football for Coach Bear Bryant.

Amelia got a scholarship to Notre Dame to study photography. She wanted to photograph the world.

Never in a million years did Amelia think that her homecoming would involve the death of a loved one.

Bubba interrupted her thoughts. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Sorry. I was thinking back to happier times."

"Any particular moment?"

"Oh, when you and I went trick or treating as Barney and Betty Rubble. Memaw hand made the costumes."

Bubba half smiled. "I remember that. Momma swore up and down we'd end up married one day."

A lone tear fell down Amelia's cheek. Why did she leave for India? Why didn't Memaw tell her about her illness?

The walk across the hospital was sheer torture for Amelia. She might as well have been hiking up Mt. Everest. She felt so bone weary.

She identified her grandmother's body.

After she left the morgue, a gentlemanly doctor approached her.

"Miss Dalton, I'm Dr. Rob. I took care of your grandmother."

"Thank you, Dr. Rob. Was she alone when…"

"No ma'am. I was with her. She was so proud of you. She showed your photographs off to us."

"Somehow I just feel like I should have been here."

"Miss Dalton, if it means anything, your Grandmother didn't suffer. She went peacefully in her sleep."

Amelia looked at Bubba, not quite knowing what to say. She tried to speak, but only sobs came out. She hugged Bubba.

"It's okay, Darlin, cry it out. I'll help you as best as I can."

"Bubba…why? It isn't fair!"

"Let Ole Bubba take you home. You need rest."

"What about the funeral?"

"That can wait till tomorrow. You need to take care of you."

Bubba took her back to the café and grabbed her bags from the rental car. He then drove Amelia to her childhood home. He carried her things into the house.

Amelia stepped onto the porch. This pace wasn't the same without Memaw.

"Now look, Amy, if there's anything I can do, call me. You've got both my numbers."

Amelia didn't say anything. She hugged Bubba and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for everything, Bubba."

Bubba tipped his hat. "Don't mention it. I'll check on you tomorrow before I head into the station. Now, get some sleep."

Amelia went inside and locked the door. She laid on the couch and fell asleep. She slept until the phone awoke her the next day.


	2. The Will

Never Alone

A In the Heat of the Night Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: I own no names or places of ITHOTN. Only the story is mine.

Chapter Two

The Will

The next couple of days were a blur for Amelia. People who knew her grandmother were bringing food and condolences. Their faces were melting together. She didn't know how she kept it together.

By the time the funeral was over, and people began leaving, she was operating on auto pilot.

Bubba approached her. "Amy, this here is Gerard Darnell. He's the ADA here in Sparta."

"Hi, Mr. Darnell."

"Miss Dalton, I'm sorry for your loss. Your grandmother hired me to take care of her legal affairs. When you're able, please stop by my office. Your grandmother left a will."

"Will tomorrow be okay?"

"Sure. Bubba, you need to be there as well."

A puzzled look crossed Bubba's face. "Me? Why?"

"When Mrs. Dalton had me to help with her will, she insisted you be there at the reading. Tomorrow morning, then?"

"Of course."

After Darnell left, Bubba sat down at the kitchen table with Amelia.

"You going to be okay, Amy?"

"I don't know. Memaw was the only family I had. Now this big old house is empty without her." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to stop the starting of a migraine. "Oh Bubba, what am I going to do? I'm all alone."

Bubba stood up and walked behind where she was sitting. He began massaging her shoulders. "You still have me. You've always had me," He showed her the palm of his hand. "Blood brothers. Remember?"

Amelia looked at the small scar on his hand. She smiled. Yes, she remembered. They had decided to conquer the tender age of twelve as blood brothers for life. Amelia was an only child. She'd always wanted a brother.

Bubba was the youngest of three kids. He wanted a sibling more his age, as there was an eight-year age difference between him and his sister.

Amelia stood up and hugged him. "Bubba Skinner, what would I do without you?"

"It'll be alright, Amy. You'll see." He rubbed her back. "I'll pick you up at nine tomorrow morning."

Amelia gave a small smile. "Tomorrow, then."

The next morning, Amelia woke up groggily. Her mood matched the weather. Stormy.

She expected to see her grandmother at the stove, cooking breakfast.

Amelia was never an early riser, however, it was the smell of breakfast cooking that roused her from slumber.

She went downstairs and made coffee. She didn't think she could eat anything. She had enough food to last from now till kingdom come.

Amelia checked her watch. It was ten till nine. Bubba would be here any moment. She stepped out on the porch. Pawpaw had built this house for Memaw. Now it was empty.

She spied Bubba's truck pulling into the driveway. He got out and opened an umbrella for her. He led her to the passenger's side of the truck.

As Bubba got in and started the truck, he remarked, "That rain is colder than ice. Hate winter weather."

Amelia smiled. She knew what he was doing. He was keeping her mind off the will reading. "Technically, Bubba, it isn't winter yet. Thanksgiving is next week."

Amelia gave thought to what she just said. The Holidays were a huge affair at the Dalton house. Memaw would cook enough food to feed three armies. There would be enough food to share with those who didn't have food. It was like that during other holidays. Amelia had learned at her grandmother's knee the love of cooking and the love of the less fortunate.

Now, that was all over. Would she be able to carry on the Dalton tradition of feeding the police force Christmas dinner?

Amelia sighed.

"Something wrong, Amy?"

"It just hit me that next week is Thanksgiving. All the traditions Memaw had are gone."

"Not necessarily. You could continue what your grandparents started."

"I wish it were that easy, Bubba."

Bubba smiled.

He pulled into the parking lot of the DA's office. He still had no idea of why Mrs. Dalton wanted him at the reading of her will. It had caused him a rather sleepless night.

This whole thing was bringing up memories that he would rather leave buried. Out of all the women he'd dated, Amelia was the stick that he measured other women to. When they graduated high school, he and Amelia were voted most likely to be married in ten years. They'd laughed it off.

Bubba shook the mental cobwebs and opened the door to the DA's office for Amelia. He was certain she didn't feel the same way.

"Morning, Darnell."

"Captain Skinner, Miss Dalton. Can I get y'all a cup of coffee?"

"Mr. Darnell," Amelia sighed, "Can we get right into this?"

"Of course, Miss Dalton. My apologies."

"Please, it's Amelia."

"Yes. Of course." Darnell pulled a stack of papers out of a manila envelope and began to read. It started off with her grandmother being of sound mind.

"Your grandmother has left you a sizable fortune, Ranging up upwards to half a million dollars. With that and the properties, you two are quite wealthy."

Bubba's eyebrows shot up. "Wait. We?"

"Yes, Bubba. Mrs. Dalton specifically asked that everything be split down the middle and divided amongst the two of you equally. For some reason, you were named as an heir. She thought highly of you."

Amelia smiled. That was so like Memaw. Thinking of others.

"Amelia, there is some property near here that your grandmother asked me to show you. She said you would know what to do with it."

Amelia and Bubba followed Darnell to an old building right across from another familiar site. The Sparta police station.

The trio walked into the building. At this point, Darnell gave Amelia a letter. She opened and read it out loud

"My Dearest Mia,

"By the time you read this letter, I will be dead. This building that Mister Darnell is showing you has a special meaning.

"You may or may not remember the many holidays in which we fed the less fortunate."

Amelia looked up from the letter. Odd that she was just thinking about that.

"It went far beyond holidays, my dear Mia.

"After you went off to college, Your grandfather and I began a soup kitchen in this very building. We wanted to help our town.

"Many who came to get hot food were from the Bottoms. This didn't sit well with our circle of friends, or so called friends.

"After your grandfather died, I simply couldn't keep it going. I ask a favor of you, Mia.

"Promise me that you will continue in my steps, feeding those who don't have. You will find the true value of a human lies in not what they have, but in their very soul.

"I am proud of the woman you have become. I leave the Dalton mantle to you.

"Your Grandmother

Caroline Dalton."

Amelia looked up from reading the letter. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"How can I do it by myself? Oh Memaw. I'll try. For you, I'll try."

Before Darnell left, he gave Bubba a letter written by Mrs. Dalton. Bubba stuck the letter in his shirt pocket, promising himself that he would read it later.

That evening, in the privacy of his apartment, Bubba opened the letter. He wasn't surprised that Mrs. Dalton addressed him by his Christian name.

"VL,

"I know you must be puzzled by the way I left my will. I did that for a reason. You are the grandson I never had.

"I ask a favor of you. Keep watch over my precious Mia. She believes she can take on the world.

"It would be a wonderous thing knowing she's in your capable hands.

"Mia is a treasure. She brightened up our lives, as I hope and pray, someday, she will brighten yours

"Regards,

"Caroline Dalton."

So this is why Mrs. Dalton had named him in her will. He chuckled lightly.

It would seem that Mrs. Caroline Dalton was playing matchmaker from beyond the grave.


	3. Miss Dalton and the Hater

_Author's note. The rating of this story will be changed as some of the subject matter will touch on racism. Coming from a small town in Alabama, It's a subject no one really talks about._

Never Alone

A In the Heat of the Night Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: I own no names or places of ITHOTN. Only the story is mine.

Chapter Three

Miss Dalton and the Hater

It had taken nearly four weeks for Amelia to get the inside of the building cleaned. The walls had been given a nice white over coat. She'd hung up pictures that she'd taken from all over the world. Pictures that her grandmother loved.

She managed to get a fully functioning industrial style kitchen in the building. She was determined to carry on her grandmother's legacy.

After the new year, she would start the soup kitchen. She noticed that there were many hungry people in Sparta. Because of this, She named the soup kitchen ministry "Helping Hands". She hoped she would be able to make a difference in this sleepy little town. It was what her Memaw wanted.

Two days before the soup kitchen was to open, Amelia found a broken window. She frowned. This was going to be a set back. The window had to be fixed.

She examined what broke the window. A brick. She shook her head. Could the culprit do anything original? A brick? How 1930's.

Amelia noticed a sheet of paper tied to the brick. She unfolded the paper and read it. Her eyes widened in horror. The words were ugly and nauseous. They touched on KKK propaganda, such as racial purity and white power. She shook her head. What idiot believed in this mess?

She gathered the brick and the paper up and walked across the street.

Bubba was just finishing up the paperwork on a botched robbery when a soft voice called his name.

"Bubba?"

He looked up. "Hey Amy. You look angry."

"I am." She showed him the brick and the piece of paper. "This broke the front window of my building."

Bubba read the paper and sighed. "I think you may want to see the Chief."

Amelia nodded and walked around to where Bubba was standing. She had met Chief Gillespie on several occasions. To tell the truth, He was the most colorful man she had met.

As she walked into the office that the Chief shared with his Chief Investigator, Virgil Tibbs, The two were talking about the latest antics of Tibbs' twins.

"Uh Chief?"

"Yeah, Bubba?"

"You remember Miss Dalton, don't you?"

"Oh, yes. I do. Miss Dalton, I never got to thank you for that fine Christmas meal you fixed for my department."

"No thanks is needed, Chief. I was happy to do it."

"I take it happiness isn't what brings you into my office this fine morning?"

"No Sir. It isn't." She showed both Gillespie and Tibbs the paper that was tied to the brick. "This was thrown thru the front window of my soup kitchen."

Gillespie read the material and passed it on to Tibbs, who rolled his eyes. "Amelia. I am so sorry that there are people out there that hate like this."

"But why vandalize my kitchen?"

Gillespie was silent for a moment. "Miss Dalton, We're going to get to the bottom of this. I suggest you go to town hall and dig up the history on that building. You may find your answers there. I'm sorry I can't be more help, Miss Dalton. I have a meeting to attend."

"Chief," Bubba said, "I'd like to round up a couple of men and help Miss Dalton repair her window."

"Oh, fine, fine. Virgil, Will you accompany me?"

Virgil gave him a puzzled look.

"I may need your expertise on this matter."

Amelia sighed. She was left with more questions that answers.

Bubba picked up on that. "Amy, We're not going to let anything else happen. As long as I've been an officer here, The Chief has been right about his hunches."

Amelia nodded. "Bubba, I've seen this kind of behavior in my travels. But never in a million years did I think it would happen in my own home town."

She left the station and went strait to town hall to look up the history of the building that had been left by her Memaw.

Meanwhile, Chief Bill Gillespie was following a hunch. He remembered another incident with that building, A time when he was just a snot nosed police officer. He hoped his hunch was wrong.

"You know something about that brick that was thrown thru Miss Dalton's window, Don't you?" Asked Tibbs

Gillespie sighed. "Yes I do. 1954 wasn't a nice time in Mississippi. The man we gonna go see is an old friend of mine. I'm hoping he isn't a part of it."

Gillespie pulled the car into the drive way of a house that, Tibbs would say, time forgot. It looked like a picture of the old south. He half expected Scarlett and Rhett to greet them at the door. He hated the pit in the middle of his stomach that formed when the Chief rang the doorbell.

A dapper gentleman answered the door. "Well," he said in a Southern drawl, "Bill Gillespie! What brings you by?"

"John Peterson? How you doing? Have you met my chief of detectives, Virgil Tibbs?"

Peterson shook Tibbs' hands. "I knew your mother. She catered some of the events held here."

It was no secret, before she died, Mrs. Tibbs did a lot of catering.

"That's not why we're here, Mr. Peterson."

"I kind of figured that. What brings y 'all here?"

The Chief held up the paper that was attached to the brick. "This is what brings us here."

Peterson read the contents of the paper and sighed. "Bill, I know what you're thinking."

"Do you?"

"Look, that was a long time ago. I'm a changed man. You were right there with me."

Virgil butted in. "I'm lost. What are we talking about?"

"You haven't told him about 1954?"

"What about 1954," asked Tibbs.

Gillespie sighed. He hated that part of his past.

"Virgil, you understand that in 1954, I wasn't Chief. I had just gotten my Sergeant stripes. I was a young punk who thought I knew it all. Anyway, The Chief at that time held a high position in The White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. He recruited myself and John here, to join. We gathered in that very same building that Miss Dalton's Memaw left her. At that time, the building belonged to John's father."

"What happened?"

John picked up where Gillespie left off. "We were going to teach the black community a lesson. We dressed in our white sheets and began to terrorize the Bottoms. It was Chief Williams' idea to burn houses. It was his idea to lynch the preacher. You may remember that night."

"The burnings. I remember them. Momma made us stay inside. I was six. Didn't either of you try to stop Williams?"

Gillespie nodded. "We both tried. But Williams didn't want to hear it. So, John and I removed our sheets, threw them into the fire and walked away. Of course most of the men on the force were members of the Klan. They didn't like the idea of a Sergeant running his mouth against their beloved Chief, so I got busted down to street patrol."

"And I," John interjected, "Got the beating of my life from my father. He was Grand Wizard of the KKK. He was mad as fire at the fact his oldest son ran away that night. It made him even more mad that he had to sell that building to Harold Dalton."

"Dalton?"

"Yes," Gillespie replied, "Harold was Amelia Dalton's grandfather."

"And the reason Yall are here to investigate me."

Gillespie shook his head.

John stood up and opened the front door. "Nadine! Can you come here please?"

A black woman came to the door. "John, why didn't you tell me we had company?"

"Bill, this is Nadine. My wife." He put his arm around Nadine. "Nadine is the reason I've been out of trouble the past few years."

"And it hasn't been easy."

"Apparently, you haven't picked up where your daddy left off."

"No. But you may want to ask that idiot nephew of mine. My brother, Thomas, thought Daddy's word was gold. Thomas' son Keith picked up where Thomas left off. If memory serves correctly, Keith was given a dishonorable discharge from the army for conduct unbecoming. He called his drill sergeant a very ugly racial name."

"I take it that Keith didn't like the fact that a black man was his superior?"

"That's right. And that was just the beginning of his problems. Bounced from job to job."

"Any idea where we can find Keith?"

"He's here in Sparta, that's for sure."

Tibbs asked, "How do you know that?"

"Follow me."

John led Gillespie and Tibbs around the side of the stately house. He pointed to wall of the house. There painted on the side of house was a black swastika and the words ****** lover.

"This was after he told me I was going to hell for marrying Nadine. I've tried to tell that boy that we're all created equal in the eyes of our Lord. However my words just fall on deaf ears. If you see him, make sure you put him away. He comes around here again, He'll meet his maker via my shotgun."

Gillespie smiled. "Well, we don't want that, do we? Thank you John." He tipped his hat towards Nadine. "Ma'am."

"Afternoon Bill. Nice to meet you, Detective."

"Same to you."

The ride back into town, Virgil thought about the conversation that had just taken place. He didn't realize that Gillespie had tried to stand up to a superior like that. Suddenly he had a new found respect for Chief Gillespie.

Amelia was getting a cramp sitting in one spot. She was also getting nauseous from the spinning of the micro filch. The quest that the chief had sent her on was very unfruitful. What was she supposed to find? Most of what she was seeing was the building was a gathering area for parties and such.

She hit 1954 and got the shock of her life. So this is why the brick was thrown thru her window. she shook her head in disbelief.

She left town hall to find Bubba. She smiled. Just the thought of Bubba made this cold day a little brighter.

She heard some commotion at Helping Hands and went to investigate.

A friendly voice called her name. "Miss Amelia?"

"Hi Parker. What's going on?"

"Oh Bubba recruited Sweet and I to help him fix your window."

Amelia smiled. "I guess I owe you boys lunch. Any requests?"

"That chicken salad you made with the grapes and pecans was sure delicious last week."

"Duly noted and hint taken."

A voice behind her said, "Can you put it on those flakey croissant rolls?"

Amelia turned around, "Sure Wilson. Anything else?"

She heard Bubba's voice. "Sweet iced tea and your Memaw's seven layer chocolate cake."

"Deal. Bubba, I found this at town hall. The history of my building. Could this have anything to do with the brick thrown thru my window?"

"It's a possibility, Amy. But don't worry. I'm not going to let anything happen."

Amelia smiled. She felt safe with Bubba Skinner around.

"Well I best sweep that broken glass out of the kitchen."

"Good. I'll unload these boards for the window."

Amelia no sooner had opened the door, when a bright light blinded her. She was flung off her feet before everything went black.

Bubba, Parker, and Sweet were taking measurements for the window when they were flung off their feet. Bubba looked up and saw what happened. Helping Hands had exploded. He tried to get to his feet, but he found himself unbalanced. He heard an incessive ringing in his ears. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Sweet.

"Bubba? Are you okay?"

Bubba couldn't hear what Sweet was saying. He put a hand on Sweet's shoulder to keep himself steady. "Amy. Where's Amy?"

Sweet pointed towards Parker.

Bubba looked at Parker, who despite having a serious cut on his face, was holding Amelia. Bubba staggered to where Parker sat. "Is she okay, Parker?"

"I don't know. She's unconscious. We need to get her to a hospital."

Seconds later, a trauma team was working on Amelia at Memorial Hospital.

Bubba, refusing medical attention, made sure that Wilson and Parker were taken care of. He sat in the ER waiting for word about Amelia. The ringing in his ears was gone, but the headache was massive. He still hadn't regained full hearing in his left ear.

Doctor Rob walked out of the trauma room. "Captain Skinner?"

Bubba stood up, staggering a bit. "How is she"

"She's a fighter. She's still out of it, however, she's out of the woods. she's going to be very sore. Now what about you?"

"Never mind me. What about Parker and Sweet?"

"Officer Williams had to eight stitches to the head. Sargent Sweet has some bumps and bruises that some pain medication should take care of."

Before Bubba could thank Doctor Rob, the ringing in his ears came back with a vengeance. He couldn't hear the good doctor ask him if he was okay. Everything went black.

Keith Peterson smiled a wicked smile when he saw the damage that had been done to the building. He would exact his grandfather's revenge on the Dalton name if it was the last thing he did.

He never knew that the town's simpleton had seen what he'd done.


	4. picking up the pieces

Never Alone

An In the Heat of the Night Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: I own no names or places of ITHOTN. Only the story is mine

Chapter Four

Picking up the pieces

Amelia opened her eyes. She didn't know where she was. Someone was rubbing her head. She looked up. It was Bubba. The concern in his eyes was genuine.

"Bubba?" Her voice was raspy.

"Hey Darlin. How you feeling?"

"Like I got hit by an eighteen wheeler. What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"No. A flash of light. Why am I in the hospital? Bubba, what happened?" Amelia was getting a tad anxious. Bubba picked up on it. He sat down in the chair, wincing at the pain in his ear.

"Do you remember anything before the flash of light?"

Amelia thought. "Um, Parker asking for chicken salad and you asking for cake."

"Okay. That's good. You have some memory."

"Bubba, what the hell is going on? I'm about to climb out of this bed and get my answers!"

Bubba chuckled. "Easy, Amy. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

Amelia tried to sit up, she hurt all over. "Whatever it is, Bubba, I can handle it."

Bubba sighed, remembering what Mrs. Dalton had said in her letter, about Amelia thinking she could take over the world. "Someone broke into Helping Hands and planted a bomb."

Amelia's eyes went wide. "No."

"I'm afraid the building exploded. Nothing was salvageable."

"What about Wilson and Parker?"

"They're fine. Bumps and Bruises."

Amelia's tears came unhindered. Why was there so much hatred in the world? Who would do this?

"I'll give you some space."

"No Bubba," She reached for his hand. "Don't go."

Bubba leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll stay until visiting hours are over. I promise."

Amelia never admitted it, but the presence of Bubba's lips on her forehead made her tingle all over.

The next day, Doctor Rob gave Amelia a clean bill of health, sending her home with the orders to take it easy.

Amelia just wanted to go home and rest.

Bubba pulled into her drive and killed the engine.

Amelia opened the door and started to climb out of the truck. Bubba stopped her.

"Amy, stay here."

He got out and drew his gun. "Alright," He yelled, "I see you beyond them bushes! Captain Skinner, Sparta Police! C'mon out!"

The figure hopped into an awaiting car and sped off. Bubba ran after it, firing off a shot. It was a mistake. The loud shot of the gun caused more ringing and pain in Bubba's ear. He dropped his gun, fell to his knees holding his head in pain.

Amelia, seeing all this, got out of the truck and ran to Bubba.

"Bubba!"

She knelt down beside him, tilting his head so she could see his face. There was intense pain in his eyes. She hugged him to her. The only man that she trusted was hurting. She wanted to take his pain upon herself. She helped him stand up. They walked to the porch. Something caught her eye. It was a small crocheted black doll with a noose around it's neck. Painted on the stained glass of the door was a black swastika.

"Amy, you're not staying here. Pack a bag."

Amelia nodded. she went upstairs and packed. She picked up two of her cameras. One was professional looking. High tech. It was her ever faithful traveling companion. The other was a Kodak snapshot camera. Her Pawpaw had given it to her when she was 12. It hat whetted her appetite for photography. It had one last shot in the cartridge. She came downstairs, trying not to limp. The events of the last hour was causing her pain that was excruciating.

Though she tried to hide it, Bubba saw thru her façade. "You're hurting, Amy. I can see it."

"So are you, Bubba. What happened to you?"

Bubba avoided her question. "Ready?"

"Yeah. Let me do this one thing." She picked up the Kodak. She snapped a picture of the black swastika. "I'm pressing charges against who ever did this."

"Good idea. I've got to speak to the Chief."

"Fine, but I'm driving. You're in no condition to drive, Bubba. I know something happened to you during the blast. You won't tell me."

"Darlin, you have enough on your shoulders. You shouldn't have to worry about me."

What happened, Bubba?"

"Doc Rob said there was some damage to my eardrum from the blast. I have to avoid loud noises. Firing my gun was really stupid on my part."

Amelia placed a hand to Bubba's cheek, feeling the couple days growth of facial hair. "My poor Bubba. Trying to save the world without thinking about yourself."

On the way to the police station, Bubba smiled. the last time Amelia had called him 'Her Bubba' was when he avenged her honor. During high school, a rival of Bubba's had called Amelia a slut and had spread an ugly rumor about the two of them, that included Amelia aborting Bubba's baby.

Bubba had challenged the boy to a fight. In the end, Bubba ended up with a bruised jaw and a broken wisdom tooth, while the rumor spreader had ended with a broken nose.

Amelia pulled into the parking space in front of the police station. When she got out, the first thing to greet her eyes was the destroyed soup kitchen. She almost broke down. It looked like a war zone. Crime scene tape roped off the burned out building.

Bubba placed an arm around her waist. "C'mon Amy. Don't dwell on the past."

Amelia wiped away a tear and followed Bubba into the police station.

As the two walked in, Amelia caught the eyes of both Parker, who had a bandage that covered the left side of his forehead, and Sweet, who looked like he went ten rounds with Rocky Balboa.

"Guys, I'm so sorry. This should've never happened."

Parker smiled. "You're right, Miss Amelia. However, it wasn't your fault."

"Besides," Wilson joined in, "After we get this guy, Can we still get some of that chicken salad?"

Amelia chuckled.

Bubba saw the smile on her face. It was the first time since the brick incident that she looked genuinely happy. Seeing that beautiful smile on her face was like a balm to his soul.

"Amy, The Chief wants to see us now."

Amelia nodded. She walked towards the office.

"Well, Amelia, how you feeling?"

"Horrible, Chief. Who would do this?" She held up the little doll and showed him the snapshot of the swastika.

"That's what we gonna find out, Amy," replied Bubba.

"Not you, Bubba, " said the Chief.

"Say what?"

"I've just been on the phone with Doc Rob."

Bubba knew where this was going. He sighed. "But, Chief."

"No. Do not 'But Chief' me. Doc Rob also mentioned that if you didn't take it easy, didn't abstain from loud noises. The damage in your left ear would be permanent. You could go deaf in that ear."

"What about the explosion and Amy's house?"

"We'll look into it. But for now, I'm ordering you to take at least a week's vacation. Take it easy. Bubba, this police station isn't gonna fall apart simply because you're not here." He reached for the button on his intercom. "Luann?"

"Yes, Chief?"

"Send in Dee and Jamison."

"Yes sir."

A few seconds later, a thin white man, and a very pretty blonde woman walked in.

"You wanted to see us, Chief?"

"Yes. I want you two doing surveillance at Miss Dalton's house. Take pictures of anyone who visits her home. "

"Yes, Sir."

"Before y'all start on that, I want you to send this little doll to the Jackson lab. I also want you to dust Miss Dalton's front door for prints."

"Yes, Sir."

After Dee and Lonnie left, Gillespie spread his hands open. "See how easy that was. Now, Miss Dalton, I agree with Bubba that it isn't a good idea for you to stay at your home."

"I can get a hotel room."

Bubba stopped her. "Actually, Amy, it maybe safer for you to stay with me."

Gillespie raised an eyebrow. "Really, Bubba?"

"Oh, c'mon, Chief! I meant that Amy's grandmother entrusted Amy's safety to me. It would make sense that she stay with me."

"You know how Sparta loves to talk."

"Let them talk."

"Bubba..."

"Chief," Amelia cut in. "I'm inclined to agree with Bubba. Memaw knew what she was doing when she wrote her will. Besides, Bubba is a very honorable man. He wouldn't do anything that would cause a scandal."

"Okay. Now I'll check in once a day. I'll keep you filled in on this case. Until we close this case, Amelia, you're to remain in Bubba's care."

Amelia nodded her head in agreement. She suddenly felt bone weary. She knew the adrenaline rush she had was fading. All she wanted to do is sleep.

Later that night, Bubba watched as Amelia slept soundly in the guest bedroom. In the past, he never could commit to any woman he dated. Amelia was different. She didn't expect him to commit. However, he could see himself married to her. He felt a surge of protectiveness run thru his body. Amelia would be happy again. He would help her pick up the pieces.


	5. The Witness

_Author's note. I'm sorry these chapters have been slow in being posted. I'm dealing with health problems_

Never Alone

An In the Heat of the Night fan fiction.

Disclaimer: I own no names or places of ITHOTN. Only the story is mine.

Chapter five

The Witness

It would be two days later, when Amelia was able to go back to the building. She had to take photographs for the insurance company. She wasn't relishing the idea.

She began taking pictures, when a teenage black boy came up to her.

"Hi."

Amelia looked at the boy. "Hi. How are you today?"

"Fine. I's here, cuz I's wants to talk to you."

Amelia gave him a puzzled look. "Me?"

"Yes Ma'am. You be the woman that owns this place?"

"Yes."

"Then I's needs to talk to you."

"What's your name?"

"Jake. Most peoples around here call me Big Baby cuz, I's thinks like a baby. But I's have enough sense to tell someone what I seed here last week."

"Well, Jake, My name is Amelia. You mean the explosion?"

"Yes Ma'am. I seed someone messin around here."

"Jake, you saw someone around this building?"

"Yes Ma'am. A white man. Looked real mean. He had yellow hair and mean eyes."

"Jake, would you be willing to tell this to the police?"

"I's sceered of the police."

"There's no need to be. One of my best friends is a police officer. He's nothing to be scared of."

"Promise?"

Amelia held out her hand for his. "I promise."

They walked across the street to the police station.

Jake had reason not to trust anyone who had white skin. When he was three, He was run over by a white man's car. The head injuries he sustained caused brain damage. He was street smart, but couldn't go to school, because he couldn't understand the curriculum. Jake was pretty much by himself, which is how he liked it.

As the two walked into the station, Chief Gillespie was talking to Tibbs. "I understand they backlogged, Virgil. But getting fingerprints off a bomb fragment should be fairly easy. Even in the state of Mississippi!"

"Chief, I can only go on what the Jackson crime lab tells me. There has been an uptick in racially motivated crimes." He turned to look at Amelia and Jake. "Please tell me you're not executing a citizen's arrest."

Amelia smiled. "No. This is Jake. He approached me a few minutes ago. He has something to tell you both."

Virgil bent down to eye level with the shaking thirteen year old. "Hi, Jake. I'm Detective Tibbs."

"You last name Tibbs?"

"Yes. That's right."

"Know a Tibbs. Real nice lady that's at Jannette's school."

"At the high school?"

"Yes sir."

"That's Althea. She and I are married."

"She comes out to Mommy's house and checks up on us. She brings me sweets and crayons!"

Virgil smiled. His wife Althea both taught and counseled at Sparta high school. Her soft spot was the kids. He'd ask her later about Jake and his family. For the moment, he needed to hear what this kid had to say. "Jake, this here is Chief Gillespie."

Gillespie held his hand out to shake Jake's hand. "Hello, young man."

"You the boss around here, Sir?"

"I am that. What can I do for you."

Jake looked up at Amelia, unsure of what to do. "It's okay, Jake."

Gillespie, sensing that the boy was petrified, suggested, "Why don't we go into my office."

The four made their way into the office. Jake sat beside Amelia, gripping her hand like a life line. He whispered, "I's sceered, Miss 'Melia!"

Amelia put her arm around Jake. "It's okay, Jake. I'll be right here. Please tell them what you told me. I promise you won't get into any trouble."

Jake sighed and repeated what he told Amelia.

After he was done, Gillespie looked at Jake. "Can you describe what the man looked like?"

Jake shook his head.

Gillespie looked at Tibbs. "Get a sketch artist in here. I want a face to go with this crime."

An hour later, the sketch artist had a face, and Gillespie knew his name. The description that Jake gave the sketch artist was a dead ringer for Keith Peterson. Gillespie was concerned. Keith's father and grandfather were members of the KKK. Keith, especially, wouldn't think twice about committing a hate crime.

Later that evening, Althea extended a dinner invitation to Bubba and Amelia.

The talk at the table turned to the subject of Jake. Althea said, "His sister Jannette is one of my best students."

"Amelia asked, "Why isn't he in school, Mrs. Tibbs?"

"He sustained a very bad injury when he was three. It's impaired his ability to learn. He has some common sense. I've been out there to make sure he's taken care of, however, Jake would rather be left alone."

"What about Jake's mother?"

"She works three jobs to take care of her children. I think she may blame herself for Jake's condition. It's sad really."

Virgil spoke up. "If Jethro Pollard ever gets wind of this, He's going to have a field day."

"The editor of the Herald?"

Bubba replied, "The one and the same. he's pretty much anti police."

"And anti every thing else," Virgil said.

Amelia turned to Bubba. "Please tell me you can keep Jake safe."

"Amy, we gonna do that very thing."

"I guess I'm worried that something may happen to him. I'll never forgive myself for that. I got him involved in this."

The next day, Amelia's words proved prophetic. Jake's sketch of Keith Peterson and Jake's picture appeared on the front of the Herald. Pollard had written a large article about hate crimes, the inadequacy of the Sparta police department, and how a sketch from the town's slowest child had blown the case wide open. He even mentioned the police's APB out on Peterson. But what really hit Amelia was that damn picture. She had taken it. Jake was all smiles. She had to take it.

Jake fell in love with her camera. She allowed him to take pictures of the police officers. He wanted his picture taken. Amelia had taken him to get ice cream. Jake had never eaten chocolate mint ice cream. He loved the refreshing coolness of the mint flavoring. He loved the bright green coloring. Amelia took the picture of Jake savoring his first bite of the sweet concoction.

How had Pollard gotten ahold of this picture?

Then it hit Amelia how Pollard could have gotten the picture.

Amelia had always used film in her camera. A sort of backup plan in case anything should happen to the battery pack. She took the film cartridge and had it processed. She was scheduled to pick it up today.

The photo shop extended a courtesy towards the Herald.

Amelia was ready to blow a gasket. She entered the shop and received her pictures. She flipped thru them. Indeed that one photo of Jake smiling, green ice cream on his lips, was gone.

"Excuse me, Miss," she said to the clerk. "Has Mr. Pollard been in?"

"Yes, Ma'am. He came in to retrieve the Herald photos."

"How did he obtain this one?" Amelia pointed to the newspaper she was carrying.

"He took that."

Amelia looked back at the newspaper and frowned. He couldn't have. Every picture she took had a serial number on the bottom. It said 2032. It was the only picture that was missing in her stack of photos.

She walked back to the station, where Bubba was trying to find out where his colleagues were on the bombing case.

"Bubba?! That SOB took my picture! I'm going to kill him!"

"Whoa, there. Back up. {Who took the picture?"

Amelia held up her copy of the Sparta Herald. "This picture is mine."

"Pollard. How do you know this is yours?"

Amelia showed the serial number on the bottom of the picture in the newspaper and her stack of photos. "See? 2032 is missing."

"What do these serial number represent?"

"This is how many pictures were taken this month."

The wheels in Bubba's head began turning. He had taken a liking to Jake. If anything happened to that kid because of Pollard's recklessness, Bubba would ring his neck.

"Cmon."

"Where are we going?"

"To see Pollard."

The walk to the newspaper office was quick. Both Amelia and Bubba were fuming.

Bubba jerked the door opened and walked inside. The receptionist, a blonde whom Bubba had dated some years back, stood up.

"Why Bubba Skinner. How can I help you?"

"Pollard."

"He's in his office. He doesn't want to be disturbed."

"Well, people in Alaska don't want snow," Bubba retorted as he and Amelia walked into Pollard's office.

Pollard was on the phone.

"Okay, Pollard, why'd you do it?"

Pollard put down the phone. "And what is that, Captain Skinner?"

"You stole my photo and passed it off as your own, Mr. Pollard."

"And you are?"

"My friends call me Amelia."

"Well, Amelia..."

"You're not my friend. You may call me Miss Dalton."

"Wow. What a cold shoulder you have. What makes you think I stole your photo?"

Amelia showed Pollard the serial number. She also circled some letters. They read, "pro of natgeo"

"What do those letters mean?"

Amelia replied, "Property of National Geographic. I am a writer/ photographer for the National Geographic magazine. They don't take kindly to someone stealing their property. I will be reporting this to my boss."

Bubba spoke up. "If anything happens to the boy because of your stupidity, I will file charges against you."

Across town, a helpless teenage boy was being tortured at the hands of a psycho, because of the color of his skin, because of the picture in the paper


	6. Fire!

Never Alone

An In the Heat of the Night Fan Fiction

Disclaimer: I own no names or places of ITHOTN. Only the story is mine.

Chapter six

Fire!

It had been twenty four hours since anyone had seen Jake. Amelia was going crazy with worry. She sat in Bubba's kitchen, crying.

Bubba tried to cheer her up. However, it was fruitless.

"Bubba, what am I going to say to Jake's mother? 'Your son is missing because I forced him to testify to what he saw. I just had to take his picture that ended up in the Herald.' What am I to do? If anything were to happen to him, it would be my fault!"

Bubba stood up an pulled her to him. He looked deep into her eyes. He ran his fingers thru her long auburn hair. ""Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. If anyone is to blame, it's Pollard. He stole your picture."

"Bubba, I'm the one who took the picture. I was so stupid for taking Jake's picture."

"Amelia."

Amelia looked up at Bubba. He had never used her first name before.

Bubba placed a hand to her cheek, his eyes burning with intensity. He bent down and kissed her. He pulled back. "Forgive me, Amy. I had no right to kiss you."

"VL," Amelia said softly, "Kiss me again."

Bubba bent down and reclaimed her lips. He wanted things to continue. However, Bubba Skinner was an honorable man.

He pulled away, breathless. "Darlin, I think we better stop, before we get to a place where we can't stop."

"You're right, Bubba. I didn't mind you kissing me. I love you. I'm just sorry it took nearly thirteen years for me to realize it."

Bubba smiled. "I've always loved you. You were the one that got away. Why did I let you get away?"

Amelia raised an eyebrow. She really didn't know why she'd let him get away. She sighed. Maybe it was fate.

"I don't know, Bubba. Remember the first time we got married?"

Bubba chuckled. He did. He was thirteen and she was twelve.

He had seen his sister get married. He tried to show her what he'd seen. They reinacted his sister's wedding. They didn't know what do after 'kiss the bride', however, Bubba was called home for pizza night.

"I got dumped for pizza," Amelia remarked.

Bubba looked at her. "Yeah, but you're prettier than a pepperoni."

She playfully punched him. "Bubba Skinner, you say the cutest things!"

Before Bubba could say anything else, the phone rang.

"Hello?"

Amelia tried to make out Bubba's expression as he listened to the voice on the other end.

"Oh my god. Yeah give us five minutes."

He turned to Amelia. "That was Luanne on the phone. Someone reported a fire."

"Where?"

"Your place."

"What?!"

"Amy. Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. We need to get over there. Now!"

Amelia was hoping that the fire was something small. What she wasn't expecting was the large cross in her front yard. It had caught the large magnolia tree on fire, which in turn had laid claim to the house.

Amelia jumped out of the truck and ran to the house.

Bubba stopped her. "No, Darlin."

Amelia crumpled. "Memaw's house. It's gone!"

She stood against the old pecan tree and watched the house burn. All her memories. Gone.

Bubba hugged her. "I'm sorry, Amy. We can rebuild."

"But Pawpaw built this house with his bare hands. I can't get those memories back."

"Darlin, you'll always have those memories. Nothin can take those away."

He ran a hand thru her hair. His hand felt wet. He looked down at his hand. There was blood on his hand.

"Amy, are you injured?"

"No. Why?"

He showed her his hand.

Amelia's eyes went from his hand to the old pecan tree she'd been standing under.

"Oh my god! Jake!"

Bubba's eyes followed her gaze. What he saw turned his stomach.

The little boy he'd made friends with only a few days ago, was hanging from a tree limb. A noose around his neck.

Amelia fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

"It's my fault, Bubba. I'm responsible. My fault."

"You did nothing wrong, Amy."

"I took that damn picture. The picture that Pollard stole. If I'd never taken that picture, Jake would still be alive. I'm responsible for that boy's death." She began hyperventilating. "It's all my fault! All my fault."

Bubba pulled her to her feet and gave a her a slight shake.

"Amy! Listen to me. You are not responsible. We will find the person who did this."

Amelia looked at Bubba's face. She pressed her face against his chest, sobbing.

Bubba felt rage building inside him. Rage against the man who'd destroyed so much.

Meanwhile, as John and Nadine Peterson were preparing to bed down for the night, a crash was heard in their front parlor.

John was the first person up.

"John, what is it?"

"I'm not sure, Nadine. Stay here."

John walked downstairs. What he saw surprised him.

"Uncle John!"

"Keith," John said with disgust. "What the hell you doing in my house?"

Keith walked to the table where the decanter of bourbon was kept. He poured himself a drink.

"Good question. What am I doing here? You just had to talk to the police, didn't you?!"

"Keith, you need to turn yourself in. Do you realize what you've done? You've blown up a building nearly killing four people."

Keith smiled a wicked smile. "Oh dear Uncle. That's not the half of it. I've set a house ablaze and killed the only witness that can place me at the soup kitchen."

"You did what?! Keith, please tell me you didn't kill that poor child."

"What's one less useless member of society? Now, I just need to deal with Dalton's granddaughter."

"No! You leave Amelia out of this. Why do you think you need revenge against her grandfather?"

"Because of that damn building. That building rightfully belonged to Daddy, which in turn made it mine. Then that damn Dalton comes in and buys the place to serve food to the residents of the Bottoms. Daddy and Grandpa would be rolling in their graves."

"Keith, our family losing that building wasn't Dalton's doings. Besides being a racial bigot, my father hated paying taxes. the government seized that building and auctioned it off. Dalton bought it. He knew what went on in that building. He decided that helping the same people the Klan tried to destroy would be a better use for that building."

"You knew?"

"Yes. I'm the one that told Dalton it was a great idea."

Neither of them knew it, but a frantic Nadine was phoning the police.

 _a/n sorry this story has been on hiatus. I am currently dealing with health problems._


End file.
